


Maybe He's Born with It

by ToriBeth



Category: How's Moving Castle
Genre: F/M, Howl's Moving Castle, if it makes a difference the book versions are my muses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 18:43:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2120658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriBeth/pseuds/ToriBeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophie think's she's discovered the mystery to Howl's unfair attractiveness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe He's Born with It

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from- just a little domestic snapshot of something that could have happened before or after Sophie's curse is cured. 
> 
> To the glory be Diana Wynne-Jones for these two magnificent babies.

Sophie looked around the room with a great deal of distaste. Every wall was lined with shelves, and every shelf- and any other available flat surface- was crammed with impossible amounts of glittery, spangled, beaded brick-a-brack. Jesters masks with chipped paint, beautiful aluminum pinwheels spinning by themselves, even the air was hung with floating bits of sparkle. The whole thing was revoltingly gaudy. 

In the middle of the room was a bed so enormous she wondered how it had ever fit through the door or the hallways. It was slightly obscured by a thick white netting, lines with golden thread, and beyond the netting was a nest of the richest and fluffiest bedding Sophie had ever seen. All of which was piled in a heap in the middle.

“Nosing, again, I see,” Howl’s voice floated to her from the door.

She turned an accusing eye at him, “How did that fit in here?”

He gave her smile she was quite sure he used when he thought she was being particularly thick, and clapped his hands together.

Suddenly they were squeezed together in a room no bigger than Michael’s, with a rancid straw mattress and dinky night stand between them. “You seem to forget the wonders of magic.”

“Wonders, indeed,” She snorted, shoving them mattress in his face and crawling over the table for the door. “More like deceptions.” Before she could reach for the knob, Howl had clapped his hands again and she was teetering on top of pile of porcelain-face dolls, eight feet off the floor. “How can anyone know if anything is real, anymore?” She grumbled, beginning her trek down what was now a book case, not caring to be mindful of what she shoved off onto the floor on her way. 

After the third tinkling smash, Howl sighed and gestured so that Sophie was gently detached from her avalanche and set on her feet.

“How do I know what to believe!” Sophie’s diatribe continued, at which he sighed a long suffering sigh. “You dance about with hair an unnatural color, in rags transformed to make the most celebrated tailor weep, even the place you live in is a sham! Is that how you do it?”

“Do what, dear?” He smiled good naturedly, and ushered over the threshold, too occupied was she to notice the eviction.

“Lure those girls in to steal their hearts!” She scowled terribly, dark eye glinting like a cat. “I bet that’s it! You’ve magiked your face, as well as everything else about you. I knew it was too unfair for a man so horrible to be so handsome! Oh, all of those poor girls!”

“Sophie!” Howl exclaimed, his face too incredibly overjoyed for a man having just been caught out. “You think I’m handsome!”

Her scowl deepened, “No, I’ve said you deception is handsome. As it is meant, to be.”

“Deception? You wound me! I might change a few things here and there- I’m a man with good taste and no fiscal responsibility to back it up -but I would never tamper with what Mother Nature has to graciously bestowed upon me! This, my dear, is as natural as the Helvatica Mountain range during the dawn or the first bloom on a rose bush or the first cry of newborn babe.” He smiled angelically, hand over his heart. “The face you seem to find attractive is no deception.” 

Sophie had frozen at the beginning of his speech and had continually grown stiffer throughout. She took a few second more to collect herself before huffing poisonously, “I don’t know why you’re so flustered about you looks anyhow. It is your personality that needs the work. Not a humble bone in your body…” in a steam that followed her down the stairs, into the kitchen, and through to her little covered nook, where, once inside and away from view, she sat down in a great heap and didn’t move for half an hour.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my fluffy (?) drabbled.


End file.
